nature of disability – Page 8

The No-Excuses Generation

By Mark E. Smith

At some point – maybe 15 or 20 years ago – the meaning of disabled became blurred to me as I began recognizing the seemingly unlimited potentials in my life. And, in more recent years, the meaning has become all but moot to me, merely definitions in medical books, as I’ve widely witnessed the truly unlimited potential in others’ lives, those who have achieved enormous success in every facet, regardless of disability.

Sure, if I put myself in the shoes of someone who doesn’t know anyone with a “severe disability,” I understand that his or her perception of disability – or, lack thereof – is pretty grim, with stereotypes of our living limited lives in countless ways, full of dependencies on others, from our families to the government.

And, while these stereotypes may hold true for some with disabilities based on any number of circumstances, there’s a fascinating segment of individuals with “severe disabilities” where limitations and dependencies aren’t the case at all – that is, where disability isn’t disability, where beyond a medical diagnosis, the scorecard of one’s life simply transcends what one might define as disabled, entering the realm of even exceeding the mainstream’s definitions of success.

While many credit the ADA in 1990 as a social door-opener for those with disabilities, it was truly 1970s legislation and that era’s independent living movement in the U.S. that created a generation – born between 1965 and 1975 with “severe disabilities” – who came into a society of every-increasing opportunities, and were encouraged by the spirit of the 1980s and 1990s to fully use every resource they could access. Therefore, we’re now seeing many between the ages of 35 and 45 – born with “severe disabilities” – living such successful lives that it truly questions the common wisdom of what it means to be “disabled.” When we look at the demographics of this generation (a notably small group compared to the overall disability population), it’s statistically distinguished from younger and older generations of those with disabilities based on education level, employment success, wealth-building, physical independence, social status, community involvement, and committed relationships. Indeed, you might say there’s a new generation of young, upwardly-mobile professionals (yuppies) – and they have disabilities.

An example is a family I know who’s truly living the American dream – custom home, pool, luxury cars, children attending a private school, vacation home, easily pulling in a 6-figure income. Oh, and the husband has very severe cerebral palsy. Because of the sensitivity of his position, I can’t tell you his job, but he’s high-up in a certain branch of the government. I recently jokingly asked his wife what she saw in a schmuck like him, and to my surprise, she gave me a candid answer: “I wanted a perfect 10. All my friends were willing to settle; but, I knew I wanted it all,” she told me. “He had to be smart, worldly, a great listener, respected by all, a hard-worker, a great father, and someone who was secure enough to support my dreams, too. And, I found it all in him, my perfect 10.”

Her ability to look at the complete picture of her husband, not his medical diagnosis, is such a profound insight – and it’s the same insight that’s defining this generation that’s arguably transcending “disability.” Put simply, this generation of those with disabilities isn’t dwelling on “disability,” but looking at the whole of life, where limitations are replaced by abilities, where dependency is replaced by independence. And, the results are astounding, where many with severe disabilities haven’t just beat all of the grim statistics of those with disabilities living in America – as in lower rates of education and higher rates of unemployment and poverty – but actually exceed the mainstream when it comes to education, income, and social mobility.

Interestingly, beyond a visibility to friends on social networks like Facebook, this generation generally avoids the limelight, not partaking in inspirational stories on television or boasting of their accomplishments in public venues. Instead, there’s a quiet humility to their successes, where they are the families next door. They demonstrate that they’re not out to prove anything to anyone, but that they’re simply living their best because it’s the right way to live, regardless of disability.

The question, however, remains: How has this generation reached the higher rungs of status and economics with inherently severe disabilities?

Again, the answer includes a combination of timing and mindset. The 1970s cracked the door of opportunity for those with disabilities, and this generation burst it wide open, seizing every opportunity in sight. Disability wasn’t seen as an obstacle, but just a trait, where all other abilities, talents, and opportunities superseded it. As one of my buddies put it, ”I wasn’t worried in the least about my spina bifida in college – I was focused on building a career.”

And, it’s a mindset that we all can learn from: Disability doesn’t have to be a defining state or ultimately limiting condition, but, in many ways, just a label – a label we can choose not to represent who we are. That is, we can have a disability, but not be “disabled” by it. As another friend of mine put it, “Why would I choose to be disabled when, with some effort, I can be educated, employed, wealthy, and in love – and then just have disability as a sidebar to it all?”

Telling Our Daughters

By Mark E. Smith

As the father of a 14-year-old, I often find myself in an odd predicament. Whenever I show someone her picture, or she’s with me at an event, people graciously note how beautiful she is. And, while I sincerely appreciate such comments, thanking them, I never really say what I’m thinking: You really have no idea how beautiful she is.

See, as with all 14-year-old girls, my daughter’s beauty isn’t based on her exterior facade that conforms to a symmetrical face, slim stature, and flowing hair that pop-culture idolizes, but a beauty that’s within – that which is inherent within all young ladies. My daughter exhibits remarkable loyalty to her friends, where her sense of popularity at school isn’t about who wears what, or who knows whom, but that everyone is her friend, where she reaches out to others based on the quality of their characters, not so-called “status.” And, she exhibits a remarkable sense of empathy, where if one of her friend’s family is going through personal struggles – divorce, job loss, abuse – she finds ways that she can help comfort that friend in times of need.

My job, of course, as her father is not just to support my daughter, but to have very direct conversations with her about how proud I am of her, that she’s inherently beautiful, that I want to support her growth into a strong, independent, emotionally healthy young woman. Researchers have proven that a woman’s most formative years toward her lifelong self-esteem and identity are in her teens – and it’s a make-or-break time for fathers who will shape, for better or for worse, their daughters’ identities.

Yet, our obligation toward building life-inspiring self-esteem in young ladies in their teens can’t stop with our own daughters, but must be extended to others we meet. The fact is, when women enter their 20s with low self-esteem, it’s often too late for any of us to have an impact. We know that low self-esteem established in the teen years often manifests itself in a woman’s adult life through destructive relationships with men – from as subtle as being controlled and having little voice in a relationship, to as blatant as abuse – and through alarming forms of “self-medication” ranging from drugs and alcohol to promiscuity. The fact is, when women need outside stimuli to feel validated, as opposed to simply knowing their intrinsic strength and beauty from within, so much of their potential is lost, where no matter how much we strive to help such an adult woman recognize her inherent beauty, the emotional scars are usually so thick that it’s among life’s toughest hurdles to overcome.

It’s for these reasons why we should all reach out to young ladies in their formative teen years, where they’re still open to seeing their intrinsic beauty, where as mothers and fathers, aunts and uncles, teachers and coaches, we should never pass on showing a teen her intrinsic beauty while we still have the opportunity to truly make a difference with strikingly simple but vital words of encouragement.

As a father himself, Rene Szalay of Ki Mobility, recently presented me with a remarkable opportunity to hopefully make a difference in a young lady’s life. I first met Rene 22 years ago at an adaptive sports camp in Chico, California. I graduated high school a few weeks before the camp, so it was my first real foray into the “wheelchair world.” Rene, however, was four years older than me, and a literal star in the wheelchair tennis world. At the camp, I witnessed how the teens looked up to Rene, and I realized the impact that we can each have on the young people around us – it was a powerful lesson in inspiration. For the following 22 years, I never crossed paths with Rene again; yet, his presence at that camp stuck with me.

Recently, while working an Abilities Expo, I joined fellow mobility industry colleagues after hours – everyone usually hangs out together regardless of our companies and roles – and Rene was among this particular group, gracious enough to note that he is a bit of a fan of my work. As I’m typically wound a bit over-the-top, I ended up horsing around with the group, and didn’t get a chance to see if Rene remembered Chico, 22 years earlier? However, the following day, true to Rene’s character that I recalled, he showed up at my booth with a 14-year-old young lady and her mother, noting that they really should speak with me. I had no idea what it was about, but I know that guys like Rene and I put people before products, and if he left his booth to bring the daughter and mother to my booth, it probably wasn’t product-related.

The young lady had cerebral palsy, and used a manual wheelchair. In typical 40-year-old-dad fashion, I asked her what her favorite subjects in school were and such – the cliché questions we use to build some rapport. However, eventually what came out was that she was struggling socially in school, that she didn’t feel like she fit in as the only one with a disability among her classmates. I told her a bit about my being the lone student with a disability when I was her age, and how my own daughter and her peers likewise struggle with questions of identity, that other young ladies feel just as insecure, but some just hide it better than others (adults are no exception at that, either!). Yet, what I mostly discussed with her was who she really was, loving Shakespeare and classical music – amazing for a 14-year-old. And, as I told her, I was in awe of her intellect and wisdom, that beyond her adorable appearance – complete with pink highlighted bangs on her blond hair – her inherent beauty shined, that there was no doubt that she would go on to do great things. “Concentrate on developing who you truly are, avoiding the no-win game of trying to fit a made-up social mold,” I shared. “Being exactly like everyone else in life gets us no where – we just blend into a crowd, or live to other people’s bland standards. But, being yourself, where your unique gifts and beauty shines, is where you thrive in the world. You are beautiful, just as everyone is in their unique ways, and your intellect and wisdom are going to propel you to an amazing, impacting life. …It only gets better from here.”

I’m known for pulling people aside and having extremely candid conversations, where I’m not bashful about laying the cards on the table if I see someone struggling in emotional pain or going down destructive paths, where I’ll share that there are healthy ways to get one’s life back on track. Again, though, with adults, such talks usually have little effect beyond the moment because one person’s caring can’t overcome the other person’s lifetime of pain – serious work must be done, and few adults have the capacity, tools, and will to shift their lives (and when it is done to a meaningful level – ridding dysfunctional behaviors – formal counseling is typically involved).

However, we know that the door is still wide open on teenagers, where adult mentors can show a 14-year-old young lady her inherent beauty and it truly registers. If you have a young lady in your life, don’t pass on those moments that emphasize her inherent beauty, where you help polish the strengths that she’ll use to live a healthy, happy, impacting life.

Right-Brain Thinking

By Mark E. Smith

When considering the human brain, most picture a single, sponge-like structure, all within a protective housing – the cranium – that’s little more than the size of a melon.

However, what many don’t realize is that the brain isn’t singular, but literally plural – that is, two distinctly separate halves (known as the left and right hemispheres), that communicate with each other to the totality of 1,000 trillion synaptic connections, but, in fact, think very differently from one another. And, when we understand how the two hemispheres of our brain think – that is, the very distinct lateralization of brain function – we better understand how we process events and live our lives, disability and all.

The left hemisphere is our memory bank, you might say. It thinks in a linear, analytical fashion, putting together the past and imagining the future to form methodical thoughts. When we dwell on the past or ponder the future, it’s our left hemisphere at work.

To the contrary, the right hemisphere doesn’t concern itself much with the past or the future, but is about the present, the here and now, the inspired moments in our lives (though, there is evidence that clinical depression is based on a hyperactive right hemisphere that distorts the way the mind intakes information, inherently turning to pessimistic, negative, nonconstructive thinking styles). When we are caught up in a moment, where our sole focus is what’s happening in the present, our right hemisphere is in affect.

In many ways, then, our left hemisphere is the weight of the world on us, with all of our past and future concerns flying around in trillions of stress-filled synaptic connections, whereas our right hemisphere is just glad to be here, taking in the moment.

When it comes to disability – and much of life, really – the right hemisphere is truly what we should primarily run on, the single cylinder that’s about the here and now. After all, when we hear of others’ discouragement with disability and life, so much of it is based on pain of the past, and fear of the future – it’s the left hemisphere tying one’s stomach in knots. Therefore, shifting from left-brain thinking to right-brain thinking frees us of many of the emotional burdens holding us back in life, keeping us centered and inspired in the present.

Interestingly, most clinical treatment of psychological or emotional trauma (both common elements in disability experience, as well), strives to move us from holding on and constantly reliving the past, to truly living in the present, where the original trauma no longer impacts our daily lives. That is, moving beyond trauma involves a shift from left-brain to right-brain thinking, where we’re not haunted by the past or dreading the future, but truly living in the present – our lives liberated, all baggage left at the door.

And, we do obtain striking clarity and room to breathe when we shift to right-brain thinking, where with the exception of being in the midst of a freak accident or trauma in the immediate, life in the present is a whole lot more relevant and comfortable than dwelling on the past or fearing the future.

Now, the fact is, it is hard for us as humans to make the shift from left-brain to right-brain thinking, especially when we’ve experienced trauma. We’re statistically prone to left-brain thinking after having experienced many forms of trauma, where we seek left-hemisphere life paths that lead us to dysfunctional behavior (a clinical basis of “post traumatic stress disorders,”), that causes us to indirectly relive the trauma over and over. We know that women who were abused as children are more likely to be in abusive spousal relationships as adults. We know that men who had alcoholic fathers are far more likely to be alcoholics as adults. And, we know that many with disabilities can get caught up dwelling on the origin and impact of their conditions or illnesses, frozen in time. In plain language, although we know that the traumas in our pasts are over, our left-brain thinking keeps us stuck reliving the experience – often literally recreating it through life choices.

The true magic of shifting to right-brain thinking, however, is that it proves that our traumatic pasts can be just that – our pasts – having little effect on our present (where distressing memories are essentially updated with more relevant thoughts in the here and now). In my late teens and early 20s, I was haunted by my father’s having walked out on my brother and me when we were kids, where I desperately wanted answers – my left-brain thinking was torturing me. However, the birth of my daughter was a wake-up call, where in a very cognizant way, I recognized that I had to shift from my left-brain anxiety about not having a father, to my right-brain focus of being a father. And, it was at that moment – where I made the decision to stop living in the past, and focus on the present – that my life changed, that a weight was lifted from my shoulders. My father died without any sort of closure for me – there wasn’t the happy ending or clear-cut answers I’d long wished. However, I was – and remain – at peace with that because my adult life isn’t about my father, but is wholly about my being a father, where my right brain is in full affect, having cherished every day of the past 14 years with my daughter.

The question as a whole, though, remains: How do people realistically shift from left-brain, stress-filled thinking to right-brain, content-in-the-moment thinking? After all, many of our careers and lives demand that we live very left-brain lives, where reminders of the past and objectives for the future are intrinsic to our lives. And, in cases of trauma like an accident that’s caused disability, the disability in itself can be a constant trigger, reminding us of the past or raising questions for the future.

Researchers know that right-brain thinking is both kinetic and holistic – it’s what’s fully engaging our bodies and minds at this moment. The reason why adrenalin-based activities like exercise or sports are so stress-relieving is because they’re right-brain oriented – you’re not concerned about the past or future when you’re simply trying to bench press one more rep. Similarly, creative endeavors require right-brain thinking – as I write this, I can’t be plagued by the past or future, as I’m in this moment, creating this sentence. Therefore, finding areas in our lives that inherently require using our right brain – simply listening to music is a great one! – are invaluable toward relieving stress, and keeping us in the present.

In my own life, where my career is left-brain based – where I can often feel like everyone’s mobility issues are on my shoulders, where the emails and such never stop – I’ve evolved aspects of my life toward right-brain activities, where they naturally balance my life. My daughter and dogs are constant sources of right-brain, in-the-moment focus, as is working out, boating, and reading. As one living in a left-brain world, so to speak, I’m able to find great reward and relief in the right-brain parts of my life.

Indeed, we can hold on to that left-brain thinking, where its catalog of memories – especially the traumatic – fill our lives with anxiety, fear, and destructive paths, leading us no where fast. Yet, we’re presented with a miracle of the mind, where our capacity to use right-brain thinking liberates us from the past, and places us in the present, where we don’t just survive, but thrive.

Listen to your right brain, where the past truly is the past, and the present has all the potential to be whatever you make it. After all, living in the here and now, making the most of this day, is the most rewarding place to be.

When Disability Becomes Humility

By Mark E. Smith

In Buddhism, humility is associated with being liberated from any suffering or anguish in life. In Christianity, humility is defined as recognizing one’s own defects, and holding a humble opinion of oneself. And, in Islam, humility translates to surrender.

Indeed, virtually all of the world’s religions feature humility as an ultimate goal of mankind, and its essence is best defined by Chan (Zen) Master Li Yuansong: “Enlightenment can come only after humility – the wisdom of realizing one’s own ignorance, insignificance, and lowliness, without which one cannot see the truth.”

Not unlike world religion, disability also contains humility as an ultimate form of being, where we recognize our limitations not with resentment, but with gratitude. And, it’s that gratitude – our humility – that allows us to have grounded perspectives in life regarding what’s truly important, where life can prove to be more about our connections with others, and less about status or materialism or physicality.

At the core of humility is humbleness, and few plights in life are more humbling than living with a severe disability. While those with disabilities are not precluded from achieving the trappings of the ego – recognition, success, wealth, and so on – disability is remarkably grounding for many, far canceling out any pretentiousness in most cases. For example, one may be very blessed with a well-paying career and success, but that doesn’t alter the reality that having to rely on others for physical care is a universally humbling experience.

However, the humbling realities of disability don’t have to be troubling as some express, but can actually be liberating, increasing our capacity to connect with others, our humility. Again, rooted within humility is the wisdom that none of us are of ultimate strength or infallibility, but that we all have weaknesses and needs. Put simply, disability, by nature, allows us to inescapably see our weaknesses – which is actually a strength – giving us the humility to respect the plights of others beyond our own challenges.

I was recently working the Abilities Expo in downtown Los Angeles, and had a wonderful walk each morning – about a mile and a half – from my hotel to the convention center. The weather was beautiful, so it was a refreshing start to my long days by racing my power wheelchair past the skyscrapers of downtown, weaving my way through crowds of commuters on foot and darting across hectic, traffic-filled intersections.

One morning, I came upon a homeless man sleeping on the sidewalk. He especially stood out to me because he was exceptionally dirty, with no possessions, sleeping on the bare concrete – a contrast to the many other homeless that I saw who had sleeping bags and shopping carts full of clothing and such. With so much going on – racing to a trade show, city traffic buzzing around me – his presence literally brought my world to a halt.

With time to spare, I went in the coffee shop around the corner, bought two breakfast sandwiches, two cartons of orange juice, and grabbed a straw. I then returned to the homeless gentleman, waking him up, offering him breakfast. He didn’t say much, but he accepted the breakfast sandwich and juice.

In my shirt and tie, I sat there with him, carefully eating my breakfast sandwich, as not to spill on my clothes. I didn’t, however, open my juice because it was beyond my dexterity – I reckoned I’d save it until one of my colleagues at the convention center could open it for me.

We sat there silently eating – folks passing us on the sidewalk – when, suddenly, the homeless gentleman took my orange juice carton and straw off of my lap, opened my juice, put the straw in, and observantly gave me sips on queue, following my bites.

What struck me was the remarkable humility in the gentleman. Although he was more down on his luck than arguably anyone in Los Angeles – and who knows how or why? – he still had the humility to recognize my needs, graciously serving me my orange juice when I could not. No, I can’t entirely explain why I stopped in my tracks that morning to have breakfast with that gentleman, but I know that it fit somewhere in my disability-based understanding that my plight in life is no more worthy than anyone else’s, that if I was to have breakfast, so should the gentleman sleeping on the sidewalk. However, what truly inspired me was that despite the gentleman’s seeming needs, he recognized mine in accordance with his own via the very nurturing act of helping me with my juice, words unspoken.

It’s easy to think we’re above others based on status, and it’s even easier to think we’re beneath others based on our seeming weaknesses, including the humbling aspects of disability. And, yet, it seems so hard for many to simply realize that we all share a common humanity, where shared humility brings us together from all walks of life, right down to a guy with cerebral palsy having breakfast with a homeless gentleman on a sidewalk, where both find gratitude in the challenges of life where others may not.

Prepared for Discrimination Disasters

By Mark E. Smith

If you live in a northern climate where it snows each winter, have you ever noticed that there’s a segment of the population that is seemingly shocked every time it snows – as if they have amnesia from the last 60 winters they’ve lived through? People actually stockpile bread and milk the day before each forecasted storm, as if this mysterious thing called snow might usher in an apocalypse. I’ve lived in snow country for 10 years, and what I’ve learned is pretty darn elementary: It snows throughout every winter – there’s no surprise or mystery to it. I know what to expect, I’m prepared for it, and I go about my life with rationality when it occurs.

Many people address ignorance and discrimination the same way some northerners address snow: They’re shocked every time it happens. Yet, we all know that ignorance and discrimination occurs around us – albeit more readily to those of us of diversity than others – so why are we so shocked and unprepared when we encounter it?

Of course, none of us wish to encounter ignorance or discrimination – it hurts and it disconnects us from our sense of belonging, unjustly questioning the completeness of our humanity – and we simply don’t want to even think of such experiences, as it’s scary and painful. Studies in psychology prove that we are far more subconsciously adept at avoiding pain than toward addressing any other emotion. Therefore, we block the foreseen potential pain of facing ignorance or discrimination from our daily awareness as a sort of self-preservation mechanism. For example, if we thought that everywhere we went was a potential for facing ignorance and discrimination, we might never leave the house. To the contrary, we most often block such realistic potential from our minds – after all, we can encounter ignorance and discrimination in the world around us – and, in a sort of denial, we assume that we’re universally going to be treated with equality and legality. Because of this, when we’re treated with ignorance and discrimination, we’re caught by surprise, most often shocked and horrified – and, worst of all, unprepared to address it.

However, I’ve learned that there’s tremendous merit to living with an awareness that we may be treated with ignorance and discrimination at virtually any time. After all, we know that ignorance and discrimination can and does occur – it’s why we have civil rights legislation, including the ADA – so why not live with a preparedness toward addressing it when encountered?

Indeed, acknowledging the existence of ignorance and discrimination – not denying it! – is a key to solving it. Being shocked by it dramatically reduces our ability to address it, and addressing it is vital, as we don’t want it occurring to the next person. When we’re shocked by ignorance and discrimination, we’re caught off guard, and don’t know how to react. Yet, when we’re prepared for it, we know exactly what to do.

A friend of mine went for a job interview for an inside sales position at a major Internet retailer. He’s a paraplegic, with full use of his upper body, so his disability had absolutely no bearing on his ability to perform the job, which required sitting in a cubical, using a computer and phone. When arriving for the interview, the interviewer took one look at his using a wheelchair and said, “Wow, are you going to be able to get down these halls OK?”

My friend was prepared in life for facing ignorance and discrimination at times, and although he wasn’t looking for trouble, his instincts told him when it was on its way. While others with disabilities may have dismissed the interviewer’s initial comment, not wanting to think that they were about to face ignorance or discrimination, my friend recognized that comment as a sign that the interview might not be performed as fairly as most would hope.

In the interview room, my friend casually pulled out a pen and pad, and took notes, summarizing the interview as it went. Every time the interviewer directly asked about his disability – which is illegal – my friend was especially careful to note the details, right down to the time. Again, my friend wasn’t looking for trouble, but he also wasn’t shocked or in denial of ignorance and discrimination. And, as he encountered it during that interview, he knew exactly what to do: Play it cool, document it, and legally address it later.

As you might presume, my friend didn’t get the job, one that he was qualified for. But, the fact that he documented that around 10 minutes of the 15 minute interview involved the interviewer’s probing questions about my friend’s disability resulted in the interviewer being fired, disability awareness training throughout the company, and a settlement for my friend. No, we don’t know whether the company has totally changed its ways, but my friend’s preparedness toward facing ignorance and discrimination definitely had some positive outcomes.

One fundamental technique that my friend used was not to be shocked by ignorance and discrimination, but to be wise toward it. See, when we’re shocked, we’re either motionless or overreacting, neither of which is the best tact. Being motionless does us no good because we’re not collecting the information needed to later address the issue, and confronting the perpetrator doesn’t work, either, because if the perpetrator had proper judgment to begin with, he or she wouldn’t engage in such behavior. Rather, when prepared for ignorance and discrimination, we instinctively know to take in vital information, minimize emotion, and save seeking resolution for the proper channels.

We want to believe that we live in a just society, one of equality for all. And, based on the laws, we do live in a just society. However, people and companies don’t always follow the laws, they don’t always treat everyone with equality. In this way, we shouldn’t live in fear of facing ignorance and discrimination – or, worse yet, deny its existence – but we should recognize its potential to occur, and be prepared when it does, handling it with a level of composure and dignity that is sure to bring positive results no matter how unjustly we’re treated.

Fool’s Gold

By Mark E. Smith

I saw an on-line correspondence by someone I’ve met in-person, and the individual was describing “their” own disability. What caught my attention was that the individual’s description of their disability seemed exaggerated beyond belief. I was so struck by the individual’s seemingly exaggeration of their disability that I called a mutual acquaintance who confirmed that, indeed, the description was dramatically exaggerated – leaving us both wondering why the individual would make their disability out to be far more physically severe than it actually was? I mean, if one were a paraplegic with full use of one’s arms, why would one clearly lead others to believe that one was a quadriplegic with virtually no use of one’s arms?

Of course, in the spectrum of disability, this wasn’t the first time that I’ve witnessed someone exaggerate the physical facts of one’s disability, describing one’s disability as medically far more severe than it truly is. And, I’m always left with the question, Why do some wish to make themselves out to seem more physically disabled than they are? To be really blunt, How dysfunctional do you have to be to seemingly wish to be more disabled among your peers than you really are?

When I was working at a college years ago, a colleague of mine and I were sitting in my office one evening talking about minority-based literature. And, specifically, we discussed how there is a “hierarchy of hardship” in western culture, where the tougher one’s plight in life, the more respect one earns from others. In today’s world, we see this in the rap music industry, where street thugs like 50 Cent, who began dealing drugs at age 12, are idolized with “street cred” in their music careers, whereas rapper, Rick Ross, lost much of his following when it came out that contrary to his “thug-filled” lyrics, he’d actually worked as a prison corrections officer. Likewise, as my colleague and I discussed, there is a certain “street cred” to disability, where the bigger your physical challenges, the higher up in the disability hierarchy you may be seen.

In this way, there is some merit to the thought that those who exaggerate their disabilities are looking to up their street cred within the disability community, so to speak. However, there’s also a much deeper, self-defeating aspect to those who exaggerate the extent of their physical disabilities: They’re trying to convince themselves of reasons why they’re struggling with self-acceptance and a lack of success in life.

Unfortunately, due to remaining stereotypes, severity of disability still gets us off of the hook in many parts of life. The reason why the media still makes a big deal about a student with a severe disability graduating college, for example, is because our culture places lower expectations on those with disabilities – and, as it works, the more severe the disability, the lower the expectations. If you have a severe disability and you succeed, you’re heroic; but, if you have a sever disability and do nothing, that’s fine, as well – after all, those with disabilities can’t be expected to live up to mainstream standards, as their plights are already harrowing enough, or so implies mainstream stereotypes.

Now, with that principle in mind, if you’re one with a disability who’s struggling with self-acceptance and not willing to put forth extreme efforts to succeed, what’s the easiest way to justify your complacent path in life?

By convincing yourself that you’re far more disabled than you really are, of course! Really, it’s a brilliant – albeit, self-defeating – strategy that actually works. If you can convince yourself – and, ideally, those close to you who don’t know any better, as with family members – that you’re too disabled to have a healthy emotional life, attend college, work, or care for yourself, then you’re off of the hook. All shame is removed from the equation because, as you’ve convinced yourself, you’re a victim in all this – that is, the severity of your disability.

However, here are the two fatal flaws when you invest in such a dysfunctional coping mechanism: Firstly, your peers with disabilities label you as a fool who no one takes seriously, and, secondly, convincing yourself that you’re more severely disabled than you are ruins your life!

You might get by convincing family, friends, and the mainstream that your disability is the worst fate on Earth (because they can still be manipulated). But, it never flies within the disability community, where those with truly the most severe disabilities will look at you and laugh, rolling away, writing you off as a “tool.” I’ve seen it countless times, where there are, say, a table full of successful individuals with medically-defined severe disabilities, and someone of notably less physical severity will join the party, and start going on and on about how disabled he or she is, only to have all others label it as a pathetic attempt for attention or as a scapegoat for shortcomings in life compared to others.

I was sitting in a hotel lounge after working an Abilities Expo once, and a paraplegic was at our table going on and on about how disabled he was, how the world was doing him wrong. With us was a young lady with muscular dystrophy, on a ventilator, with no use of her arms, and she had a career as a social worker. As the gentleman went on and on about how terrible his life was with a disability, the young lady suddenly said, “I’ll bet you $5 that you can’t pick up that glass that’s in front of you.”

The gentleman didn’t think twice, simply picking up the glass. The young lady smiled, and said, “Man, when you can pick up a glass, you’re right, you must have it tougher than many of us in life. Reach in my backpack, and grab $5 out of my wallet – you clearly need it more than the rest of us.”

Again, you can exaggerate your disability in culture at large, but it will make you a fool among your peers with disabilities.

Nevertheless, in the grand scheme of life, looking foolish among peers isn’t nearly as consequential as convincing yourself that disability effects your life more than it should. The minute that you create any false limitations in your life, the only one that’s ultimately harmed is you. Make every excuse in the world why your life is a horrible plight – including exaggerating disability – but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re the one removing yourself from the game, you’re dictating your own limitations toward success.

So, if you find yourself feeling like your disability is the worst plight ever, making it more severe than it is, how do you change that self-destructive mindset?

The answer is strikingly simple: Stop dwelling on your disability, and start focusing on your abilities. Sure, it takes accountability, where you say, I’m responsible for the outcomes in my life, and my disability doesn’t void my remaining abilities, whatever they may be. Value your abilities, and use them to their fullest – never complaining, but always thankful – and your life will go in directions that you never dreamed.

Of course, there’s never any thought among my successful friends as to who has the severest physical disability. Sure, we all have varying degrees of physical disabilities, where a clinical observation might deem quadriplegia more severe than a below-the-knee amputation. However, when we’re each focused on living life to our fullest potentials, no one is more or less disabled than the next person – we’re all simply on a level playing field, living our best.

The Necessity of Challenge

By Mark E. Smith

Have you noticed how life has an uncanny way of placing lessons in front of us?

I was flipping through the channels, and came across a story about Kyle Maynard, born without arms or legs. Now in his mid-20s, Kyle not only was a high school championship wrestler, but went on to attend the University of Georgia, won ESPN’s Espy Award, appeared on every major talk show, authored a book, became among the top motivational speakers, modeled for Abercrombie & Fitch, opened his own CrossFit gym, and most recently fought in a sanctioned mixed martial arts fight.

So, I watched the quick story about Kyle, not thinking much about it because in the circle many of us travel, we’re all just doing what he’s doing – that is valuing what abilities we have, and making the most of them, consistently embracing new challenges.

However, here’s where the unexpected life lesson comes in: I changed the channel to NBC, where The Biggest Loser was on – a reality-type show about losing weight. And, I immediately encountered a 350 lb. woman crying that she couldn’t run on the treadmill. Meanwhile, the fitness coaches were screaming at her. Admittedly, in one of my most judgmental thoughts, I wished I could have been there screaming at her, too, as she should have been absolutely ashamed of herself. She was born with 100% of abilities – all four limbs, the ability to walk, and all – and she was crying over having to jog on a treadmill, all because she refused to rise to the simplest challenge. I went as far as to presume that the reason why she was obese was due to a lack of will toward facing any challenges, that eating was an escape to avoid any issues in her life – it’s psychology 101.

Now, before you judge me by stating that obesity is a disability that can’t be prevented, you need to know two facts: Firstly, according to U.S. and Canadian studies, “At an individual level, a combination of excessive caloric intake and a lack of physical activity is thought to explain most cases of obesity. A limited number of cases are due primarily to genetics, medical reasons, or psychiatric illness.” Therefore, obesity, primarily, is totally behavioral and preventable in most cases.

Secondly, The Biggest Loser only takes contestants who have behavioral obesity, so the woman crying about running on the treadmill wasn’t doing so for physical reasons, but out of an utter inability to tackle even the easiest challenge.

For me, the juxtaposition was profound: Kyle was born with no arms or legs and has taken full accountability for his life, filled with gratitude toward what he’s been given, gladly embracing ever-increasing challenges. On the other hand, the woman on The Biggest Loser was born with full physical abilities, ate herself to obesity, avoiding accountability, and took her life for such granted that she didn’t even have the willpower to run on a treadmill. What’s wrong with this picture?

Actually, the side-by-side comparison of Kyle and The Biggest Loser woman exemplifies a much larger picture of what’s going on today in America – that is, we’re seeing those with among the severest disabilities thrive to astounding success while much of the mainstream seems complacent in their lives. Biologically, it defies logic – that is a person with a sever disability shouldn’t excel over an able-bodied person, as the able-bodied person has every physical advantage, but we see it happening time and time again.

Yet, we know scientifically that our success at virtually any endeavor – even the most physical ones – has far more to do with the mind than the body. See, Kyle’s success is based on his lifelong mental skills of facing challenges, whereas The Biggest Loser contestant had no concept of facing challenges because she’d likely avoided them her whole life.

And, this is where we see the true reason of why those with severe disabilities can excel over the able-bodied mainstream – we know how to face challenges by nature of our everyday lives, and we’re not intimidated by whatever comes our way. See, challenges are like exercise – the more we face them, the stronger and more adept we become. And, when you’ve spent your life overcoming disability-related hurdles, you’re strikingly equipped to face virtually any challenges that come your way. Any limits in life can quickly disappear with such a highly-evolved skill set.

We had a snow and ice storm recently, and like every other day, I simply drove my power wheelchair to work – no big deal in my mind. Sure, I’ve been in some very bad conditions (even a State of Emergency once), but I truly don’t care what the weather is or how treacherous the conditions – I’m going to work because it’s simply what I do everyday, and no matter how bad the weather, it doesn’t phase me.

However, some people in my region don’t go to work in such storms because they somehow see it as too risky. In literal terms, I can drive my power wheelchair to work in the severest weather without a second thought, but others refuse to drive their heated 4-wheel drives. This fact goes back to the more challenges that we face, the more adept we become – and the less likely we are to see excuses in any circumstance. I know that I can survive the worst weather because I’ve done it. However, the person in the SUV who’s never moved beyond such a challenge has a far more limited view of what’s achievable. If much of life has been a physical cake walk, few develop the ability to face notable challenges, and it sets them at a disadvantage. However, if we’ve constantly faced – and embraced – challenges, we not only become proficient at persevering and facing challenges, but we also pursue opportunities that others pass upon.

While some of us have had little choice in whether we faced obstacles, we still at some point learned to embrace them, recognizing the empowerment that comes from the process. And, what’s vital – and personally inspiring – is to never stop seeking new challenges, ones that further broaden our potential, where the world around us becomes truly boundless. In my own life, I continue facing the challenges of my cerebral palsy – a never-ending life lesson on facing all-day adversity – but I’m likewise always placing additional challenges upon it, making my life seemingly much harder than it needs to be in the short term to ensure absolute empowerment in the long term. Unlike millions who think working 9 to 5 is enough, not doing much more in life, I know that I can push myself mentally, emotionally, physically, and intellectually much farther, where I simply don’t stop where others do. Driving my power wheelchair to work in the snow doesn’t phase me. I’m glad to stay up till 2:00 a.m. getting a writing job done. I’ll travel cross country by myself. I’ll go to work with a 102-degree fever. I’ll workout in my gym even after even the most exhausting day. I assume absolute financial accountability, living debt-free. I’ll throw myself off of my boat and work on my swimming, once thought impossible. And, I do all of this because it keeps me in the best overall shape possible, where I know that life is going to send more challenges my way, and when it does, I’ll simply say, Bring them on – I’m equipped to handle them.

For many, with and without disabilities, it’s tempting to make life as easy as possible. But, again, such a passive approach in life is counterproductive. If you want to truly get somewhere in life, make it as challenging as possible. For parents and caregivers, don’t be so quick to assist your loved ones with disabilities – if a task is just outside their abilities, let them struggle to accomplish it, rising to the challenge. As those with disabilities, ourselves, let us not ask for help, but struggle to accomplish a task, where we learn tenacity in facing challenges and breaking barriers. And, for all of us, challenges should rule our lives, where we’re primed to work two jobs, attend night school, hit the gym, go to work no matter what, and not ever use an excuse not to push ourselves beyond what others might perceive as illogical.

Every time that we face a challenge, we push the boundaries of our lives a little further. Why waste your life crying on a treadmill when by simply pursuing challenges, you can broaden your life on a limitless scale.

Sorry, Disability Ain’t the Issue

By Mark E. Smith

I was listening to the BBC disability-related talk show, OUCH!, a while back and they raised an interesting question: How often do you automatically attribute poor outcomes in your life to disability? For example, if you’ve ever been turned down for a date, did you automatically blame it on your disability?

Now, the OUCH! hosts, Liz and Matt, didn’t really explore the subject, but raised the question and moved on, per their fast-paced show. However, the subject remained with me because such thinking – …it was because of my disability – has been expressed to me by so many of my peers with disabilities when something doesn’t turn out the way they wish, and it’s always seemed like such an easy cop-out, hinged upon self-pity and shunning accountability.

An acquaintance with a disability recently requested my advice toward her job search. She was applying for jobs in a field requiring a minimum of a bachelor’s degree, with additional career certifications. She came to me frustrated that time after time, able-bodied individuals got the job, or she wasn’t called in for an interview at all – and she was convinced that it was all based on her having a disability, that she was being discriminated against by all. So, I asked to see her resume, as her story was quite compelling. To my surprise – based on how valid she expressed her concerns of discrimination – her resume told a totally different tale: She had an absolute lack of qualifications. She had no college education or certifications for the jobs she applied for, where if her resume came from anyone else, the human resources manager would just as quickly dismiss it. She blamed her inability to get a job on her disability, but the real problem was her resume – she was simply unqualified.

While injustice can occur based on disability, too often we use disability as a scapegoat in our lives, an easy pawn to shun accountability. Many of us know more than one guy who will swear that his wife or girlfriend left him because of his disability. In fact, if you ever run into a guy who uses a wheelchair who’s drinking alone in a bar, you’re almost guaranteed to hear such a sob story. And, in knowing couples who’ve gone through the process of disability, then divorce, such tales are true – the wife walked out on her husband with a disability (and, yes, men likewise leave women who become disabled). Yet, when you, as a third person, get a true glimpse into such failed relationships, virtually none failed directly due to disability, but due to extreme dysfunctions like addiction, emotional abuse, and a generally self-defeating attitude on the part of the person with a disability. In fact, a lot of times the disability factor causes the departing spouse to stick it out longer than she or he should have, not wanting to seemingly abandon the spouse “in a time of need,” whereas he or she would have left sooner if it was a non-disabled spouse who was such a mess. Yet, the person with the disability virtually never takes accountability, blaming it all on the disability, practically saying, Sure, I’m a pill-popping alcoholic, with no motivation, who hates the world, but she had no right to leave me just because I became paralyzed! Again, just asked the guy at the bar, he’ll tell you.

Of course, those who are single with disabilities can prove masters at blaming their disabilities for not finding love, conveniently overlooking every dysfunction in their lives. I have a buddy who I’ve known for ten years, and he calls me every few months with the same question: Why can’t women overlook my disability and love me for me?

And, on the surface it’s such a poignant, heartfelt question – but, my answer, not so much: You’re a 42-year-old, who’s never had a job, lives with your mom, plays video games all night, are 100 lbs. overweight, and your wardrobe consists of Twilight T-shirts and sweatpants. Disability maybe an issue for some women, but your overall lack of ambition is a problem for all women. If you have ten issues in your life and disability is one of them, address the other nine, and you’ll be 90% ahead of the game!

We know that discrimination occurs toward those with disabilities, and we likewise know that some are so uncomfortable around those with disabilities that they won’t accept us. However, those instances are few and far in-between. When we run into situations that don’t go the way we wish, we mustn’t blame disability by default, but analyze other areas of our lives with a possibly painful reality check. If I’m not getting jobs, is it because I’m not qualified? Did my spouse leave me because of my terrible behavior? Am I striking out in love because I have virtually nothing to offer someone? Then, when we answer such questions honestly, we know exactly what to work on to improve our lives and become better individuals. In many ways, taking disability out of the equation forces us to take responsibility – and that’s a life-bettering tool.

As for me, a harmless flirt, I get seemingly ignored by women all of the time. I suppose some could blame such rejection on my having cerebral palsy. However, in full accountability, I know the real answer: I’m just a creep. I need not worry about having cerebral palsy, but the creep in me certainly needs addressing. I really should work on that.

The Effort of Hope

By Mark E. Smith

About a year ago, I had the privilege of speaking in front of about 100 inner-city youth going through a “life development program.” These were teens from the roughest streets of Philadelphia, relocated to a rural, live-in vocational program where they accomplished everything from earning a GED, to learning a vocation, to developing independent living skills. And, as the director of the program explained to me, while these young adults knew how to survive in the toughest of scenarios – abusive parents, violent neighborhoods, and a drug-infested culture – they struggled to see the potential of an educated, career-based life. It wasn’t that they didn’t want a healthy, successful life; rather, they didn’t know that they could achieve one. That is, hope wasn’t part of their emotional vocabulary. And, so among the reasons why the program invited me to speak and share my story of overcoming some tough odds was to further introduce the teens to hope, illustrated by my successes despite adversity.

Hope is a fascinating subject, where researchers have found it to be our most powerful life tool toward moving forward no matter our situation. We often confuse wishing with hope – but they’re very different. Wishing merely projects our thoughts into the universe, with no personal action behind it – that is, the only way we get results via wishing is by happenstance, coincidence, or blind luck. Generally, wishing does us little good in our everyday lives. You can wish with all of your might, for example, that your credit card debt will go away; but, as we all know, simply wishing debt away has no result – debt doesn’t disapear based on wishes.

However, hope is a much different process – it inspires us into action, and that does change our lives in very real ways. People who have hope possess the ability to look beyond their current situations, knowing that change in their lives is possible. Think for a moment how powerful of mindset that is: One without hope always feels trapped in current states, while one with hope always believes there’s something around the corner and seeks it. Hope, then, is a catalyst toward moving our lives forward in positive directions. In contrast to one simply wishing away credit card debt to no result, hope inspires us that we have the capacity to spend less, work more, and get out of debt. Wishing, then, proves futile while hope inspires action-based results.

Few places illustrate the power of hope better than in the workplace. No matter a company and its culture, the hopeless and hopeful employees are easy to spot, with few outlooks in-between. The hopeless show up every day dreading their jobs, dissatisfied with their lives, self-proclaimed victims of circumstance. They’ll tell you that their lives are stuck in a rut because of a bad boss, a poor economy, and on and on. Sure, they wish their lives would change, but without acting upon hope, they’re going nowhere.

In contrast, employees with hope are always on the look-out for new potential. Maybe they can ultimately transfer departments to a better boss, or maybe they have their resumes out at other companies. They don’t know exactly what’s going to improve their situations, but hope motivates them to try everything under the sun to move their careers forward. They’re not wishing, they’re doing, knowing that with effort, their careers can change.

Yet, here’s the real question that researchers have striven to answer: How do we find hope our lives to begin with – especially in circumstances when all around us is seemingly bleak?

I want to take you back to the program of inner-city city youth who I spoke with, and imagine for a moment that you’re among them. Say you’re a 16-year-old who’s grown up in West Philadelphia, in public housing. You’ve been raised by your grandmother because you’ve never known your father, and your mother’s a heroine addict. Your 14-year-old cousin just had her first baby, and on your way home from school everyday, you passed drug dealers and prostitutes – the only ones with money. Most of your friends are locked up, in some sort of gang, or are roaming the streets, few left in school. And, this is the only environment you know. There are successful people on TV, but that’s the closest you’ve seen to any kind of existence beyond your neighborhood, and it’s inexplicable to you how anyone on TV got to where they are in life. Now, how do you find hope for any future besides the grim reality that surrounds you?

Researchers have learned that while we, as humans, have the innate ability to hope, it must be socially triggered within us, then exercised by us. Literally, someone must inspire hope within us, and then we must run with it on our own. If inner-city kids stay in an inner-city environment, where there’s a culture of hopelessness – that is, no self-realization that there are possibilities for their lives beyond their grim surroundings – they will simply live hopeless lives, repeating generations of teen pregnancy, lack of education, drug use, and crime.

Yet, when such at-risk young adults as those attending the program that I visited are removed from their grim environment, and they are shown by others the boundless opportunities that they really have, they learn the foremost catalyst for succeeding in life: Hope. That is, they can then see the new potentials that their actions bring.

What’s even more amazing is that with hope as a socially initiated mindset, it’s not exclusive to common experience. See, hope allows us to relate to others on the overall theme of facing and overcoming adversity, regardless of type or origin. As a 40-year-old white guy, with a graduate education, white-collar income, and cerebral palsy, I may seem a world away from inner-city teens of ethnicity. Yet, in speaking with them that day – and as they later shared with me in a follow-up letter – we both inspired each other with hope. They looked at me and thought, Man, if he can get that far with cerebral palsy, I can make it through this program. Meanwhile, I remain in awe of them, thinking to myself, If these teens can grow up in the toughest of environments, and work their butts off to move their lives in new directions with such courage and effort, there’s no excuse for me not to push myself to take on more in life, no matter how scary a challenge may seem. Indeed, a mutual conveyance of hope is life-changing for all.

It’s no coincidence that all life-changing programs – from spinal cord injury rehabilitation programs to 12-step recovery programs to offender reform programs – include the key component of mentors who have transcended their challenges and demonstrate hope for others. Again, hope stems from social awareness, where what we see in others effects what we can envision for ourselves – and when we see someone else who’s accomplished a goal, we have a better understanding that we can, too. We, then, have hope.

What we must realize is that hope is the key ingredient that moves us forward, where while we can never totally know the outcome of any well-intended effort, it’ sure to take us somewhere positive in the process. If you’re struggling with a seemingly hopeless situation – maybe you’re in an unsatisfying job, relationship, or lifestyle, in general – make an effort to find hope. For example, if you hate your job, feeling trapped by what you perceive as limitations based on your company’s culture, your education, and the economy, but the guy next to you with the same skill set just found a better job, follow his lead, use him as a catalyst for developing your own hope. After, all, we see this opportunity for hope within the disability community all of the time, where those with the severest physical disabilities are often the most successful – educated, with esteemed careers, and healthy families – and they offer us all hope that we can achieve the same. We must look at others and tell ourselves, If he or she did it, I can, too – that’s how finding hope works.

And, if you’re one who’s overcome challenges to great success – maybe disability, or addiction, or unemployment, or weight loss, or changed your life in a dramatically positive way – make yourself a “conveyor of hope” to others. Again, hope isn’t challenge-specific, but life-specific. Maybe you’ve overcome tremendous challenges with your disability, but your friend is struggling with weight loss. You should make an effort to be a conveyor of hope in such situations, noting something to the effect of, I’ve never struggled with weight loss, but I remember how frustrating my physical rehab was after my accident, where I put so much effort into it and saw little results at the beginning. But, I stuck with it, and eventually the results came, where I learned that perseverance pays off. No matter the challenge, such a personal anecdote is sure to inspire hope in others.

Of course, there are no constants in life, and such is the case with hope, where we all can lose hope from time to time. I, myself, have struggled in such moments, earlier in life with incurably alcoholic parents, and later in life with an ailing marriage. And, yet, amidst those times of great inner turmoil, where I saw no resolution to the situations in the moment, reminding myself to recognize hope for the future pulled me out of those moments of despair, knowing that although I couldn’t predict the future, I had hope that all would work out for me as long as I pursued productive, healthy actions. See, hope ties into the old adage that it only works when we work it – and when we truly work it, backing it up with efforts to move our lives forward, it has its way of working seeming miracles for us.

No, hope isn’t a guarantee to success or the route to an ideal outcome. Rather, hope is a compass of direction, a mechanism where when we truly work at it – send out those resumes, hit that gym, pursue healthy relationships, accept your disability! – our efforts have an inexplicable way of propelling our lives to levels of satisfaction that we never dreamed.

Spastic Half-Wit

By Mark E. Smith

I read that 92% of women and 56% of men struggle with some sort of low self-esteem, most commonly relating to “body image” or “feeling like one doesn’t measure up to others.”

In my experience, those statistics prove unfortunately true in everyday life, as I encounter many who confide in me – or indirectly suggest – such feelings of self-insufficiency. However, what’s striking is that it implies to me that I should be horrified by who I am: A spastic, half-witted guy with cerebral palsy, big ears, a goofy smile, and no talent, who doesn’t really fit in anywhere. I might as well put out a self-titled album, Rolling Disaster.

Really, I have attractive, intelligent, popular, able-bodied people tell me all of the time how insufficient they feel. Women who have model-like beauty and super intellects tell me that they’re disturbingly unattractive and unintelligent. Men who are brilliant tell me of their constant insecurities. And, it leaves me thinking that if all of these truly perfect people feel so horribly about themselves, I must really be a freakish wreck on wheels, where I truly do have many of the deficiencies that they wrongly project upon themselves. I mean, let’s be real – have you seen me? Again, I’m a spastic, half-witted guy with cerebral palsy, big ears, a goofy smile, and no talent, who doesn’t really fit in anywhere – who’s more of a literal mess than me? And, readers send me hate emails confirming those facts all of the time, so surely they’re true.

Of course, unlike the 92% of women and 56% of men with low self-esteem, I actually accept and embrace who I am. Indeed, I may be a rolling wreck, but I know that I can’t change aspects like having cerebral palsy, so rather than despising who I am, I make the most of who I am – much of which is based in gratitude for whatever I’ve been bestowed in life. Sure, I’m a spastic, half-witted guy with cerebral palsy, big ears, a goofy smile, and no talent, who doesn’t really fit in anywhere, but even those are traits not to be squandered. I say, why not be the best spastic, half-witted guy with cerebral palsy, big ears, a goofy smile, and no talent, who doesn’t really fit in anywhere, that I can be, right?

See, what I know is that our potential isn’t limited by what we lack; rather, our potential is maximized by what we have. And, too many of us count ourselves short, only seeing deficiencies – or, worst of all, buying into the criticisms of others – when we should be focused on our true potentials, our greatness within. We have this one body, mind, and life, and let’s make the most of them, where it’s not what we have, but what we do with what we have that makes all of the difference.

I could have looked at my life with spastic cerebral palsy and believed the pundits from birth, settling for an institutionalized life of physical dependency on others; but, instead, I sought to believe in developing whatever physical abilities that I could muster toward independence. I could have seen myself as having the cognitive deficiencies that doctors diagnosed me with when I was an infant; but, instead, I scored an I.Q. atop the charts, pursued a college education, going on to a successful career path serving others. I could have looked at myself in the mirror, seeing my cerebral palsied body – my undeniable “freakishness” – and never pursued relationships or a family; but, instead, I have a beautiful daughter, the center of my life. I could have presumed that I had no talent; but, instead, I write, give talks, and work in the wheelchair industry with great creativity. And, I could have looked at my power wheelchair as a device that prevented me from fitting in; but, instead, I combine my unique appearance with my personality to shine in crowds.

Indeed, every day I could write a thousand-line list as to how I’m not on par with everyone else, how I’m a spastic, half-witted guy with cerebral palsy, big ears, a goofy smile, and no talent, who doesn’t really fit in anywhere; but, instead, I recognize the positive attributes that I do have, and make the most of them, dedicating myself to family, career, and community.

Really, we’re a lot like old cars, where we may think of ourselves as clunkers, but with the right attitude, we truly shine as collector-quality classics. Take some time to look in the mirror, and see the shine in you – it’s there, you just have to open yourself to it. And, if it makes you feel better, you can say, At least I’m not a spastic, half-witted guy with cerebral palsy, big ears, a goofy smile, and no talent, who doesn’t really fit in anywhere, like Mark!

After all, if I’m doing great with all of my freakish flaws, you must be nothing short of a spectacular masterpiece of a person with your remarkable strengths, talents, and good-looks.